


Wake Me Up When it's the Future Again

by Mindswander



Category: Almost Human, Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, crossover fic, pre relationship for both, they're working on it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:21:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mindswander/pseuds/Mindswander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a demon forces Dorian and John into the past, how will the Sleepy Hollow crew and the partners cope and manage to make everything right again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time dipping my toe into either fandom so I'm sorry if the characters are a bit ooc. I hope you enjoy it anyway.
> 
> As always I don't have beta but I work to keep the mistakes to a minimum.

They finally had him cornered in their bunker of all places.

If the demon stepped back he’d be in the devil’s trap, but if he came forward Abbie had the…stick waiting in the waistband of her pants. (She refused to call it a wand though it did look like one. But this was her life, _her real life_ , and there was no place for Harry Potter wands in it, witches and warlocks existence aside).

“Might as well surrender,” Ichabod insisted from behind her left shoulder. Truthfully, all she wanted was the third stone that it held in its grasp, but surrender would gain them that too.

She gave him another cursory once over. The demon was strangely normal looking compared to the other ones she had come across. He was incredibly pale, but he had a strangely kind face, sharp blue eyes, and a shock of blond hair that had the air of intentional bed head.

“I will complete my mission,” he hissed as beads of sweat rolled down his face. “You cannot stop the inevitable.”

“Watch us,” she retorted and edged closer, mindful that in a blink of an eye the normal hands could transform into deadly claws; something that they learned the hard way when Ichabod had taken a hit to the arm. Teeth bared at her, he brought the stone to his lips and whispered to it. At the heed of his dark words, the stone glimmered red through the twists the of markings on its surface. As it had done before, it began to shine like a beacon, impossible to look at, and Abbie screwed her eyes shut feeling Ichabod clasp  her hand so they wouldn’t be separated.

 _Not again_ , she thought with resigned irritation, waiting for the moment of whirling that made her feel sick but it didn’t come. Chancing opening her eyes, she leaned back in alarm, but drew her gun from her holster on instinct.

From what she could tell they hadn’t moved from their spot but in front of them were two people she didn’t know. The slightly shorter man, with stunning blue eyes anyone would notice, slid to the side to block the scowling man behind him. The other was tensed, as if he expected her to shoot first and ask later, but the words police scrawled across his chest gave Abbie pause.

“What are you--?” she started but the blue lights crawling up the side of his face threw her off. They swirled and flashed in a strange but enchanting pattern before flickering out. Behind her she felt Ichabod tense.

“I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, John,” the flashy blue light man stated with a tight smile, and Abbie guffawed at the ridiculousness of his first words.

“Kansas? We are no where near Kansas. We are in Sleepy Hollow.”  

Abbie’s shoulders sagged as she sighed at Ichabod missing the reference but what did she expect?

She jerked her chin at the brunette and adjusted the gun trained on them. “You’re a police officer?” At the mention of his apparent title, the man seemed to unconsciously reach for his chest, before clenching his hands into fists and sticking them by his side.

“I’m Detective John Kennex and this is Dorian, my partner,” he answered gruffly. “Who are you?”

“This is Lieutenant Abbie Mills and I am Ichabod Crane,” her partner responded and Abbie shifted her stance as the blue lights danced across Dorian’s face again. There was a tense silence between them,  Abbie unsure of where to go from there, but then Dorian smiled at her, a true blinding display of happiness that caused her to scrunch her nose in confusion.

Dorian turned his back slightly to the witnesses which she found incredibly trusting of someone who still had a gun trained on them. “Don’t worry John. She is a very well respected officer and was even accepted into the program for the FBI though she chose not to attend for some reason.”  Abbie tried to keep her face neutral at the indication that this man knew who she was though she had no idea who _he_ was beyond his name.

He turned back to face them. “It’s the year 2013 correct?” And behind him John paled considerably though his appearance of annoyed defiance didn’t drop.

“That’s not a funny joke Dorian,” he growled.

“He is not lying,” Ichabod provided helpfully. “It is December 5th, 2013 to be exact.” Abbie rolled her eyes but Dorian smiled at Ichabod in a way she had never seen before. It’s as if he appreciated his precise nature and know all where everyone else she knew couldn’t stand it. Clearly his partner didn’t share the same satisfaction when he pursed his lips and sighed.

John pinched the bridge of his nose and spoke with his eyes closed. “Fine. Let’s say I believe this nonsense,” and how couldn’t he, Abbie thought, there was no way wherever he had just been looked like this, “then how the hell did we get here?”

“If you do not believe you are where you are now, I truly doubt you will believe our tale though it’s true. We are—“

Ichabod was cut off by Jenny coming around the corner. “It’s the apocalypse don’t you know?” she announced while waving the stone she and Irving had collected from the demon, meaning two of the three were now in their possession. Despite that, it still somehow hadn’t been enough to stop him from poofing away again.

“The what?” John asked incredulously.

“The apocalypse, and yes,I mean that in the biblical sense. It’s the four horsemen and demons and witchcraft. The supernatural,” Captain Irving related with a little wave of his fingers. His tone was deadpan and expression bored as if he was just about done with it all. Not that she blamed him. They had visited just about everywhere today, as they demon dragged them through time in an effort to either get them killed or displaced permanently so the forces of evil could win this war. Even so, Abbie found some amusement  when they had ended up at some rave in a time that couldn’t have been anything other than the early 2000’s. Ichabod had looked immediately aghast at the sea of bodies, flickering lights and pulsing music, but for a second Abbie was taken back to her mischievous younger days. When Jenny ran up beside her and did a little hip twist with a smirk on her face, Abbie elbowed her conspiratorially making Irving roll his eyes and push them into the mass to follow the blond head weaving through the crowd.

“The more important question here,” Jenny said with a quirk of her eyebrows, “is who are these two cuties? You seem to pull them out of the woodwork Abbie. Bravo.” She clapped in an exaggerated fashion and looked at the men out of the corner of her eye.

Abbie smiled but stopped Jenny from going further. “Dorian and John.” She pointed to the other two on her “team”, “Frank Irving, Jenny Mills.” She gestured to herself and the other witness, “Abbie Mills, Ichabod Crane. Jenny, Captain, these two appeared when our time demon vanished so there’s that. You got it? Great. Good.”

After the introductions Dorian’s face lit up again and _what is that about_ , but he smiled even wider at the group. “Sisters, John.” He gave his partner a pat on his arm. “And the Captain of the Sleepy Hollow precinct. We’re in good hands.”

“He’s taking this surprisingly well for not being from around here,” Irving commented and scratched at his chin. “Where are you from anyway?”

“2048, “John answered, looking like a raging headache was coming on, and honestly, that’s she expected from the pair though Dorian seemed to bypass all of that for inquisitive and much too aware of what was going on and who they were. _What the hell?_

The lights in his face flickered again and Jenny, throwing caution to the wind, walked closer to Dorian to peer at him. John didn’t seem to take too kindly to the action as his shoulders tensed and out of instinct Abbie took a step closer too, posture rigid, though Dorian and Jenny seemed to be ignoring them.

“I like your twinkle face.” She stopped a few feet short of him and placed her hands on her hips. “What’s that all about?”

Dorian cocked his head at her question. “I’m a...,” his face flashed quickly, “a robot is probably how you would best understand it.” Jenny pursed her lips, but Abbie’s mouth popped open and distantly she was pretty sure she heard Irving sigh.

At their reactions John crowded close to Dorian as if he expected an attack.

“Great. Now I’m living in the movie I, Robot. As if I expected anything less really,” Irving griped and wandered out of the room muttering to himself.

“Fancy,” Jenny said as she watched him go before turning back to Dorian. “Well let's go then.” She gestured with her head toward the door and Dorian cast a look at his friend that resulted in a shrug, but followed after her sister. John clenched his jaw but trailed his partner too, staying close to his back before they disappeared into the hall.

When they were gone Abbie turned her eyes to the ceiling, just mulling over the mess they were in and how they were going to get out of it now. They were saddled with two future time travelers and had no understanding of how to use the stones to go after the demon, and even if they did, she wasn’t sure they should.

Taking a deep breath she composed herself and looked at her partner who was staring at her intently. Her skin flushed under his scrutiny and she took a step toward the door. “Come on, Ichabod. Something is bound to happen if we’re not there.”

Ichabod nodded and fell into step silently beside her, but she could practically hear and see the curious cogs turning in his head. “What’s the matter?” she asked after a minute of quiet, unable to bear the obvious question bouncing around his head.

The man brushed his hands over the front of his shirt before he turned to look at her. “What ever is a robot Miss Mills?”

Like John, Abbie suddenly felt a headache coming on.


	2. Chapter 2

John leans against the wall clenching and relaxing, clenching and relaxing his hands. Being calm in this situation is entirely impossible for him. Not even thirty minutes ago they were in his living room arguing over Dorian ruining his buzz by giving him statistics while he was trying to watch a basketball game. The next thing he knew the world winked out, flashed electric blue and tuned them back in…in here; wherever and whenever that might be if he was to believe them. Which he wasn’t sure he did and yet Dorian…

Dorian had apparently not received the memo, or sub routine, on self-preservation. There’s no mistaking his comfort with Jenny with the way the two of them are leaning toward each other across the bench talking animatedly. His smiles are easy and she keeps laughing at whatever ridiculous comments he’s making as if one of her own hadn’t pointed a gun at them a few minutes ago. As if Jenny herself didn’t have a fun on her hip right now though she laughs and seems to be enjoying Dorian’s company.

John grits his teeth when she pokes his partner’s chest but at least her friends are on board with being wary like him. The tall, dark and English man won’t stop staring at him with a frown and Abbie just looks generally exasperated.

“Jenny,” Abbie calls and John’s mildly impressed she can sound both irritated and calm with her sister at the same time. “We need to talk.” John half rolls his eyes at her words but the curious knot in his chest loosens when Jenny pats Dorian’s arm and follows his sister out of the room. Ichabod remains hovering by the door, completely conspicuous, to block their “escape” but it suits his purposes just fine.

“Dorian,” he growls but the android is already on his way over.

“Yeah, man.” He nods. “I think I could really like her. She’s quite nice.”

John snorts and adjusts his stance on the wall. “I’m glad you like your new friend while I’m sure she’s imagining blowing you away with the gun at her hip,” he says and somehow Dorian has the nerve to smile at him. That aggressively affectionate smile that is so human it makes John feel less than because he’s so much better at it than John ever was. “What do you think you’re smiling at?”

“Of course she has a gun, John. She was fighting with a time shifting demon and we just appeared out of nowhere.”

“So that’s why you two were making eyes at each other. Lack of trust gets you hot?” he snaps and Dorian laughs.

“Whatever you say John.”

The detective stifles a growl at Dorian’s amusement. “This isn’t funny. We’re—,“ he won’t say the past because of a demon in some apocalyptic scenario because he’s not crazy (yet), “--here and we don’t know these people. We have to find a way back and that plan doesn’t include you little friend.”

Dorian doesn’t respond immediately and instead fixes him with a long suffering glare like he was being impossible on purpose. But he isn’t for the most part…he’s pretty sure anyway. “And what do you propose we do? We’re in 2013 however that may have happened and however you may like to deny it. We don’t exist in any database on this planet right now. We have no current currency and most importantly we have no idea how to get back home. They’re our best option at this point.”

John rubs the back of his head as Dorian rounds out his rant. Of course all of that had run through his mind on the off chance that he wasn’t five seconds from being locked in a puzzle factory, but hearing and thinking about it has turned out to be two different things in the end. If it’s really 2013—

“It’s true John,” Dorian reiterates without missing a beat. Sometimes it’s like he can read his mind, unnerving him in moments, but if it’s true, and he’ll found out concretely soon enough, then yes they were at the mercy of this group of people whether he likes it or not.

He really doesn’t.

“Fine, buy stop making friends with our captors,” he says while scowling at the android out of the corner of his eye. “It’s not in good form.”

John’s chest clenches up because there’s that smile again. “It would probably be in your benefit to make nice. I’m not the one that has dietary requirements,” he snickers and John turns his head completely away to swallow hoping it’s not as loud as he thinks.

“People were never my strong suit.”

“You say that and yet you’re always surprising me,” he insists and grins at John. “But try not to stab yourself in the leg as a party trick. We both know how well that went last time.”

* * *

 

Abbie dials Henry for the fifth time but again it only rings and rings in her ear. What good is this technology if he never answers his phone and refuses to set up a voicemail? For all he knew this was life and death.

Hanging up the phone again, she looks over at Jenny who is trying to peer over Ichabod’s shoulder. “What are they doing Ichy?” she asks with a little smirk and much as she expects Ichabod’s face dead pans.

“Miss Jenny I prefer it if you would not refer to me as such.”

“Technicalities,” she says with a dismissive wave. “The important part here is what they’re doing.”

“Speaking of them and their doings,” Abbie cuts in, “You need to be more careful. Whether or not they are who they insist they are, you’re being awfully chummy with them.” 

Jenny arches a perfectly sculpted brow and pushes her jacket out of the way to show off the gun in her holster. “I’m being perfectly safe Abs. I’m just choosing to be wary and have fun. If you have an opportunity to know a robot, you seize it. Now,” she places her attention squarely on Ichabod again, “Tell me what they’re doing. I’m curious.”

“And we want to be safe too,” she adds as an afterthought much to Abbie’s chagrin, but Jenny is Jenny she thinks, might as well go with it.

With a little huff and a knowing look, Ichabod acquiesces to her demands and peers over his shoulder, brows furrowing. “Conversing, or rather arguing as it appears on the part of the detective,” he informs with a frown.

True to form Jenny smiles at his words, eyes twinkling. That sparkle, Abbie recognizes that look devilish look. It’s the same one she used to get when they were children and she was going to pull some stunt that inevitably pissed people off. A plan she was usually a part of. “Jenny, no. Whatever you’re thinking, just don’t. We’ve got enough on our plate.”

Captain Irving eyes Jenny wearily but nods in agreement. “So what are we going to do here? Grumpy and Smiley are the least of our problems in a way.” He points at Ichabod. “You’re usually out resident expert here so give us the run down.”

“Unfortunately, I am not helpful in this situation. We possess two of the stones, but I am unsure if wielding them would be possible. But let’s say for sake of argument that we were able, our degree of accuracy would be so infinitesimal that it is not worth the risk anyway, I imagine. We are simply at the mercy of the demon to return I am afraid, unless Henry can provide us with a better solution.”

“If he would pick up the phone,” Abbie seethes. She has never liked feeling helpless and being at the mercy of someone who may just appear whenever is not sitting well with her. “Great. Just great. And what about those two?” She gestures to the room behind Ichabod. “We don’t even know why they’re here, who they are—“

Irving interrupts her. “Well we do know at the very least the names they supplied us with don’t exist on record. I still have Stacy looking into it but so far no dice.”

“Fantastic,” Abbie groans and exhales loudly through her nose. “So what are we supposed to do with them? It’s almost midnight now. Can we bring them to a hotel with a detail or?”

“And say they’re what? I can lie creatively a lot of the time but there’s a limit Mills.”

Abbie looks from Irving to Ichabod, Ichabod to Jenny , hoping for some sort of help here, but her eyes immediately settle on her sister’s face. “Oh no. No. No, Jenny,” she insists, voice trying at hard and commanding but she feels as she’s fighting a losing battle.

 

* * *

 

Abbie sticks her key in the lock with more force than necessary, twists it, and pushes the door open.  Leaning to the left she flicks the switch that illuminates her living room. “Home sweet apartment,” she mutters and waves a hand to usher them inside.

Dorian immediately takes her up on her offer and enters, hands folded behind his back as he does a little turn though his partner still watches warily from the doorway. “You have a lovely home, Abbie,” he says enthusiastically and behind her Jenny nudges her with an impossibly wide smile she’s sure. This is exactly what she didn’t want and yet her she is.

Herding the detective, Ichabod, and her sister inside Abbie kicks the door closed behind them. 


End file.
